Burial
by Fuchsia.Grasshopper
Summary: L could always hear the bells. They were ringing on the day he met her. She accidentally happened upon Wammy's House, but it was a mistake none of the orphans wanted to correct. With her life entangled with theirs, L must learn to accept her influence, and solve the most important case of all, what comes after death. LxOC, with all of the Wammy House boys along for the mystery.
1. Stranger at the Gate

**Hello and welcome to my new story, readers old and new! So after the whole Netflix live action movie fiasco (sorry if you were a fan, but I couldn't get passed the bastardization of Light's character) I was drawn into the world of death note once more and wanted to write a story. Wammy's House is an area that was definitely the most tantalizing for me to want to explore because the possibilities are endless. Obviously this isn't meant to be taken as canon, but I want to keep it as close in the vein of Death note as I can, so I don't want you guys to have to worry about those details. I just want you to have fun and enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own only any OC's and original plot points, the rest lies in greater hands than mine.**

* * *

 _The first time Cherish met L was when she was 11 years old._

The autumns were cold in Winchester, and this year was no exception. The brisk wind matched her pace as she strode with her hands buried deep into her wool pockets. Her fingers were curled up into fists in an attempt to retain any warmth, and she regretted not listening to her mother about wearing mittens. She had lied and said she was going to meet with ' _friends'_.

' _But mittens are for children_ ', she had declared before marching out the front door proudly. That foolish pride had long abandoned her, along with any feeling in her hands.

She kept her chin tucked down behind her thick knit scarf, but the tops of her cheeks had already turned an apple red the moment she had stepped out for her journey. Fortunately, she did not need to see straight ahead to know where she was going. Every day after school it was the same. She had made this same walk through the streets and across the bridge many times, stopping at the large house locked away behind bars.

 **Wammy's House.**

It had become something of an obsession for her, getting passed the large Iron Gate that is. She knew there were kids there. The delightful sound of fun had been easy to pick up on while going to the park with her parents one day, and she had wanted to run towards it. But then her mother had calmly explained to her what an orphanage was. She couldn't quite comprehend what it meant to be a child without a mum or a dad, but she liked the idea of going to school in the same house where you slept and ate food. More than anything, there would always be someone for her to play with.

She pressed her face up between two of the bars, mindful not to get her lips or tongue stuck to the cold metal. That had happened to a boy on the schoolyard last winter, and she was sure she had never seen that much red come out of anyone before.

The grounds around the house were covered in leaves, which left the trees standing naked in the wind. Someone had gathered the leaves into crunchy piles, and they looked perfect to jump into. Her eyes darted around with anticipation, and her ears were listening for the sound of laughter. A minute went by, and she stood with an eager smile. She even had her hands out from her pockets, grasping onto the bars of the gate, though it burned her palms with the touch of frost. The breeze stirred her hair around her face, and still no voices. It was just her and the howling wind.

Gradually her excitement waned, and her grip slackened on the gate until her arms flapped back down to her sides. She wasn't going to get through to the house today. This wasn't the first time she had stood gaping on the other side, and it probably wouldn't be the last unless she decided to climb over the bars. Fear of punishment kept her from doing that though. Nothing short of a golden ticket from Mr. Wonka himself was going to let her inside Wammy's House.

She huffed in disappointment and took a step back. The windows were too far away for her to see if there was anyone wandering around inside, though they probably weren't going to rush out just for her anyway. It was always quiet there now, and she began to wonder if she had imagined all those fantastic, fun sounds from before.

Even that thought wasn't enough to shake her determination of getting inside, and she already had herself convinced to return tomorrow. Wammy's orphans couldn't hide forever. With hope in mind, she returned her frigid hands to her pockets and set off back the way she came, not knowing that there was a pair of big, owlish eyes watching her.

* * *

 _L first saw Cherish when he was 10 years old_

The girl had returned yet again. It was like clockwork, and L had put together a schedule for her appearances. She returned between the time of three-thirty to four O'clock on weekdays and varying afternoons on weekends when her parents allowed for it. Never on Saturday mornings, however, which likely had her attending Shabbat … or she was just a late sleeper.

Her goal to attract the attention of the occupants of Wammy's House had been achieved. A little competition had even been started to see how long it would take her to pass through the gates of her own accord, which meant none of the other children could aid her in any way. For some of the younger children, this seemed an impossible task. They saw the strange girl as a new friend to play with, someone other than special.

L didn't care much one way or the other. People were curious about the unknown, especially children. Once she had taken her fill of the orphanage, the novelty of this place would disappear for her. If she was ever so bold to cross the property line of course. He figured there was about an eight percent chance of her taking matters into her own hands.

She was obedient, too afraid to break any rules. Parents were the creator of rules. While both Watari and Roger tried to show a firm hand with the children, it was mostly met with disobedience. Such restrictions stunted intellectual growth, and for the gifted of Wammy's House, that was unacceptable. L didn't fault the girl though, she was simply a product of her upbringing.

L looked at the window again and saw that his breath on the glass had caused a small patch of fog to appear. He was up in the attic of the house, space he had adopted for himself since he had no need of his bedroom. Sleep came to him a little less every night now.

L found his time split between solving cases and practicing tennis, and there wasn't much time left between the two. He made the exception to partake in food, though his eating habits were growing to a threatening level of sweet that would make a dentist's head spin. Watari was an enabler to his saccharine diet by bringing him the most decadent pastries and sweets, though he tried to ease his guilt for it by bringing the occasional fruit.

With one of his pale, skinny fingers, he reached towards the window and drew a strawberry in the condensation he had created. Through the lines in the steam, he had traced he could see outside. More to the point, his eyes were drawn to the front gate and the girl who had scaled to the top. So she had abandoned habit in favor of recklessness. L approved of this change, even if it meant his inference about her had been wrong. Half observations from a distance could only provide him with so much information.

For a while, he continued to watch her from his vantage point in the attic, until the watching turned to waiting. She was wavering up on the gate like a weak waving flag, and with a sigh of disappointment, L understood that she had gotten herself stuck. What an unsatisfying turn this had taken.

He stood up to a hunch, his bones creaking more than the floorboards of the attic. With shuffled steps he made towards the door, snatching a scarf from a peg on the wall. That was more for Watari's benefit than of his own need to keep warm. L doubted he would be outside for more than five minutes.

The rest of Wammy's House was quiet because most of the children were attending lessons. L opted for more practical one-on-one tutoring with Watari, while also taking his learning into his own hands. He only had to read something once to have a thorough grasp of the subject.

Slowly he padded down the stairs from the attic and through the hallway of the second floor. He moved unhurriedly, both enjoying the silence of the house, and comfortable with his assumption that the girl would still be on top of the gate once he got there. He chose not to interact with his peers out of his preference for solitude. Though their exact purpose had never been stated by neither Watari nor Roger, L knew the other orphans were brought here to be like him. Special. Something that could change the world.

The double doors at the front of the house were in sight, and he wasted no time twisting back the brass handle. A blast of the cold quickly escaped into the house, ruffling back L's hair. He haphazardly tied the scarf around his neck before closing the door behind him, it shut with a dull thud that rattled the knocker. It took but a moment for his sensitive eyes to adjust to the orange light of autumn, and then his focus was back on his objective.

At first, she didn't notice his approaching figure, her eyes pulled down and presumably worrying about a fall from such a height. Her long hair, which was white like cake frosting, was tied back with a red silk ribbon. L considered that she looked like a cupcake with a cherry on top of her head. This idea made it easier for him to speak up.

"You're stuck," He said, and at first he wondered if his voice would be lost to her in the wind. Usually, he only shared words with Watari, quietly spoken in a barren room. But he must have used the appropriate pitch, because she jolted up on the gate, her hands clenching tight around the bars as she spun her head towards him.

"You scared me," She said quaveringly.

L pondered that. Scared was a feeling reserved for one's fears, like Linda's terror of storms or Zachariah's fright around spiders. She would have to feel the same uneasiness being in his presence, which was absurd because they had only just become acquainted. Startled then. He decided that fitted her mood better.

"Why don't you come down?" L suggested while he crouched down in the grass, placing his hands on his knees.

"As if it's that easy," She complained.

"You ascended to the top without difficulty, so it stands to reason that you should be able to climb down in reverse of those steps."

She looked at him with a funny expression, though not in a manner he was unfamiliar with. "But what if I fall?"

L put a thumb to his mouth before speaking. "You would sustain an injury, from a bruise to a broken bone, though that is depending on how you would land and if you tense up."

"Would you catch me?" She said softly, almost pleading.

"I ..." L blinked rapidly, unsure how to respond. He recalled the game that had been made, on whether or not she would ever pass the gate. L had never agreed to join the game, but if he made such a promise to catch her, that would be coercing her to come down. Cheating.

"I won't catch you," He said, and the girl appeared stricken by the news.

Slowly he stood back up and began to approach the gate. Confident in his dexterity and athletic ability, he put his hands to the bars and began to climb up. It only took him a few stretches to the top before he was seated beside her. He had one of his legs swung over each side of the gate, just like she had. His dark eyes linked with her green ones.

"Hello," She said in a voice that was silvery, not having the shrillness of most of the young girls in the house.

L blinked back. "I can show you the steps to climb down, but you have to decide yourself which way you'll go."

She was watching him with apt attention, so much so that L began to feel uncomfortable. He trained his eyes down so he could watch his footing, and to escape her minty eyes. She must have followed suit because he heard her gasp in surprise, no doubt in shock at the sight of his toes curled around the bars.

"Where are your shoes? I get in trouble when I don't wear mittens. Won't your … isn't there an adult that will be mad at you?" She had likely wanted to say parents before catching her mistake. So she had never met an orphan before.

"Perhaps," He answered vaguely. "Now please, pay attention to what I'm showing you."

She nodded, causing her hair to bob along with the movement. L let natural instinct take control of his actions as he started to guide his body back down the gate. He alternated between placing his feet and his hands on the bars until he touched the stone walkway below.

"Seems simple enough," she said.

L took his place back out on the grass to observe. Slowly she lifted her left leg back over the bars and put to test copying the steps that he had shown her. Her moves were more cautious, and steady, but she reached the same result. L was only slightly curious as to why it was back over the same side from which she had come.

"Thank you," She told him through the bars, and L nodded in kind. "Now I know how to for next time."

Next time. So she would come back of her own volition, and use the skills he had taught her. That meant he had won the game. He smiled to himself in victory.

"Well, see ya," She gave a small wave, then huddled into her black pea coat as started back in the wind.

L watched until he could no longer see her vanilla and cherry topped head when it disappeared around the corner. It was an odd experience to be sure, but the moment had passed and so he started to make his way back to the house. He stopped only once he had made it up the stairs to the doors.

The bells began to chime, and he closed his eyes to listen to their peaceful song. It was like being under a spell, oblivious and wonderful. Sometimes it was the part of the day he waited for, while other times he resented the calm they enforced upon him. But the singing of the bells eventually stopped, and it was the only thing L could always be certain of. His eyes opened to the silence, and he returned inside.

* * *

 **Thoughts? I have a fair amount of this story already planned out, which includes Mello, Near, and Matt also playing big roles. It was said the L only was in England for about 5 years, and was brought to Wammy's house when he was 8, so this gives me some time to explore his growing up faze. Mello, Near, and Matt aren't at the house yet, but I have plans for when they all get there. A, and BB will probably play a part too, though I'm undecided in what capacity. Let me know what you liked about this chapter and if it's worth continuing!**


	2. A New Name

**Well thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed, and are already following this journey! Mika, SaintsFan1, OTPwanderer, and Mayazita special thanks for your kind words. So let's continue!**

* * *

Cherish did return to Wammy's House, but she waited until Sunday before deciding to go back. Perhaps she didn't want to be seen as overeager. Especially not in front of that strange boy who had shown her how to climb down the gate. He hadn't exactly jumped at the chance to be friendly with her, though he was the first face she had seen come from the house. She had forgotten to ask his name, and she was sure she had never made mention of hers to him.

Once again she told her mother she was going to the park to play with friends. It was a lie she no longer felt guilty about. Cherish was actually surprised her parents still believed it. It was glaringly obvious during school functions that she didn't actually have a circle of friends. She never got invited to any of the girls birthday parties, was always the last one picked for sports, and never had a partner for class projects; she was the weird kid. If reading books and sitting alone made her unpopular, it was a worthwhile sacrifice. Of course, she wanted to have friends, but only the kinds that would be just like her.

The cold winds of fall had let up, and it was a considerably sunnier day as she mounted the gate at Wammy's House. She had worn mittens this time, but she took them off before climbing so she would have a good grip. Her moves were still hesitant, but using the steps the boy had shown her, she finally made it down to the walkway of the property. Her coat had only snagged on the bars twice.

Her heart was pounding with her achievement, and her eyes flickered about at the large stretch of land the orphanage sat on. It was so much to see that she couldn't take it all in fast enough. The backyard of her house was dwarfed by this place, and she couldn't understand why there weren't kids running around playing. She would never be indoors if she lived here.

Before her courage could fail her and a sense of rationality could return, Cherish started up the curved path to the house. The stone steps that led up to the pair of double doors seemed such a height to climb like she was facing a mountain. She clasped onto the iron railing and slowly started up, all the while her neck was craned to look at the tall, looming windows that seemed to stare at her as she went. When she got to the top, there was a shiny knocker on the left door that she couldn't reach. There was a doorbell also, and she pressed it once, allowing for a deep, booming melody to carry through the house. It sounded like one of the songs her music instructor would make her play.

While Cherish waited patiently at the door, she took a moment to look over her shoulder to the gate she had just trespassed. It seemed further away from up there on the stairs, though Wammy's House was also a long distance from her home than the park she had said she was going to. If her parents ever found out she was coming here, she'd probably be in big trouble. But before her fearful thoughts made her turn back, the lock to the door was unlatched, and it opened up before her.

A look of surprise was worn on the face of the old man who stood there looking down at her. He had thick, bushy eyebrows, and a large, pointed nose that balanced a pair of spectacles on the end. Cherish knew she wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, and because it was an orphanage she had stupidly assumed a kid would have answered the door.

"Er—I'm sorry," She started. "You don't know me, but I was just—"

"But I do know you, my dear," He interrupted, his mouth lifting into a smile. "We all do. The children have been waiting."

"Waiting for me?" Her thoughts wandered back to the boy, and she wondered if he had told everyone about her.

"Yes. I do believe it was Zachariah who picked today," He said, and Cherish had no idea what he was talking about. Her confusion must have shown, because he took a step back and opened the door wider, allowing her to see further inside the orphanage. It looked like a castle. "Why don't you come inside so they can explain?"

She took an unsure step back. No one knew she was here. What if she never came back out? "I don't know about that."

He nodded, appearing to approve of her skepticism. "It's your choice of course, though your cheeks look like they would appreciate a moment out of the cold."

She rubbed her face with one of her mittens, almost forgetting that the cold could still numb her cheeks even though she had bundled in warm clothes. The house looked so inviting too, all draped in wood and heavy linens, and the smell of sweetness pouring out.

"Maybe just for a minute," She conceded.

"Wonderful," said the old man.

Cherish stepped inside of the large foyer and onto an expensive looking rug that covered the wood floor. She slipped out of her red Mary-janes, the ones with the heart shaped silver buckle that was her favorite and padded around in her black tights. Her head turned in every direction, marveling at every corner of the house. The stained glass window on the wall above the grand staircase was by far her favorite. It created a colorful rainbow through the air when the light shone just right.

"May I take your coat, young miss?"

She swiveled back to the man standing behind her, watching her with patience. "Alright." She struggled with the large black buttons for a moment before shrugging out of her coat. The dress she had on underneath was long sleeved, a soft red cotton that matched well with her shoes. She placed her hands together behind her back and waited shyly for instruction.

"You may call me Roger, though I must ask you not to share your name just yet. The children have been working on one for you, and I would not be very popular if I robbed them of that." The kids wanted to name her? Cherish wrinkled her nose at the strange idea. "This way please, down the hall to the study."

She returned her attention to Roger and followed closely at his side as he led her through the orphanage. The floors felt slippery beneath her feet, and she bet if she gave a running start, she could slide up and down the hallways. She refrained from that though, trying to show her best manners like her parents would want, even though they didn't know she was there.

Nearly all of the doors they passed were closed, not revealing any of the wonderful secrets that the house had to offer. Before Cherish started to feel disappointed, Roger made a right turn, into a large room at the back of the house that faced into the backyard.

The study was a cozy, open area, with many windows letting in plenty of sunlight which helped to create balance with the all wood interior. An oak desk sat abandoned in the corner with an ornate globe sat on its top, and a wall of books stood behind it. Two brown leather wingback chairs were seated before the cold fireplace, one of them occupied by a grandfatherly man. He was reading aloud a story, to what was the most amazing thing about the room, at least to Cherish. Among the floor was the orphans, all seated across the expanse of the study, their attention forward to the reading man.

"Pardon my intrusion children, but I thought it would interest you to know we have a guest," Roger said, clearing his throat.

Cherish was unprepared for how silent the room would fall, or how fast the attention of at least ten pairs of eyes would fall upon her. Suddenly it felt like she was in school, about to present her project to the class. She took a tentative step back, bumping into Roger's arm. "Hi," She said quietly.

"She's here!" A girl at the back yelled.

"I picked today, that means I win," Another boy declared proudly.

"Nuh-uh, L won. Wammy said so, right sir?" The same girl said, her pigtails bouncing as she turned back to the old gentleman in the chair.

He chuckled warmly. "Yes Linda, it was L who approached our guest."

"L always wins. He doesn't play fair," The first boy grumbled.

"Of course he doesn't, that's why he wins, Zach." The boy who spoke was taller and looked older than some in the room. He was the first to stand up and approach her. "Welcome to Wammy's House. I'm Able, but you can call me A."

Cherish looked at him closely. His dark brown hair and round face seemed friendly enough, and she took a step closer. "My name's—"

"Wait, don't tell us," Linda exclaimed, shooting up from the floor. "You can't say your real name in Wammy's House, that's a rule."

"Oh," She said dumbly. "Then what can you call me?"

"Well, we've all been thinking, and we've come up with a bit of a list ever since A saw you outside the gate," Zachariah said from the floor, scratching a hand through his curly red hair. "How about Meek?"

"Or Flower?"

"Or Dare?"

"Or Young?"

The names kept coming at her like cannon fire from the many voices on the floor. Some were clever, while some didn't even sound like real words, at least none she had ever heard of. She began to feel dizzy from all of the shouting, and she could see Roger and the man Wammy share a sympathetic smile her way.

"Or Cherry? You certainly seem to like the color red," said Linda.

"Wait," She declared with an idea, and all of the voices fell silent. "You can call me Cherish. My parents already do, it's a nickname."

"Cherish?" Able tested out the name with a nod. "We don't even have a C here. That works, right everyone?"

There was a collected sound of agreement, and before she could blink, she was being swarmed by a circle of kids. Hands reached out for her to shake, and words of greeting were being spouted into her ears faster than she could comprehend them. She did overhear someone inquiring about her hair being as white as Wammy's, and that caused her to flush.

"Children!" Wammy's voice boomed as he took to standing. "Please, is this how we great our guests?"

"You're funny Wammy," said Zach. "We never have guests."

"Then let's create a great first impression, one that is lasting that won't scare the poor girl off back to where she came from," He said calmly, smiling with warmth at her through the crowd of his orphans. "I am Wammy, and I welcome you to our home."

"It's nice to meet you Wammy sir, and everyone." When she was given enough space to breathe and collect her thoughts, she remembered someone important to her whole reason of being there. He wasn't in the group of children present. That messy hair of his wasn't hard to miss. "Where's the boy who showed me how to climb? L, I think someone said."

Linda rolled her eyes as she shoved her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. "L doesn't participate in group study. He's better than everyone."

"That's true," Zachariah chirped, looking fond.

"Oh." Cherish frowned. She had wanted to thank him, and show with proof of her being there that she hadn't forgotten his lesson. Though if he was as smart as the other kids said, he probably already knew that.

"Never mind that. We can go outside again," said Able, and a chorus of jubilant cries erupted in the room. Some of the kids ran around Roger and out from the study, supposedly to collect their coats and shoes.

"Why couldn't you go outside?" Cherish asked to Linda, who had remained.

"We were waiting to see how long it would take you to come here yourself. Us being outside would have encouraged you sooner, and that wouldn't make for an accurate experiment."

Cherish still wasn't quite sure she understood. She didn't know what kind of school this was supposed to be, or if all orphanages were like Wammy's House. Something told her that that last bit wasn't the case.

A tug on her sleeve from Linda got her attention. "C'mon, let's go play."

Cherish felt her face bloom into a big smile after hearing the words she had always wanted from another kid.

"Yeah!" She said, losing her shy nature as she dragged Linda along by her arm. The girl struggle to keep up with her, but she didn't seem bothered, giggling as they went. For the first time the guilt from her lie vanished. Cherish was finally going outside to play with friends.

* * *

 **And now she is officially Cherish! You guys don't get to learn her name right away either, which will be important for later. Able is the name I chose for A, and I look forward to exploring that end of things (some of you probably already know about A in canon). She still has a lot to learn about what Wammy House really is, and I can't wait to do that. L is back next chapter, I don't shy away from a challenge even though his POV is somewhat more difficult. Cheers and let me know your thoughts!**


	3. Cupcakes and Pecans

**Alright so a bit of a slower chapter last time, but I doubled in views already so I know you guys are reading! This entire chapter is in L's POV, so hopefully I did Okay considering I am imagining him as a boy right now. Let me know how I did in your comments!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own any OC's and original plot points, the rest is from greater minds.**

* * *

L had heard the doorbell from upstairs in the attic. It wasn't a familiar sound because of how sparse the list of guests was for Wammy's House, but he recognized it all the same. The girl had come back after only letting a few days pass by. She had chosen the Sunday, the day that would provide her with the most time to be absent from her own home. There was no denying her curiosity about the house, or the orphans.

Despite all the commotion he had heard coming from inside the study, L never left his spot where he was stooped on the floor. There was a bowl of jellybeans before him (which he had absentmindedly grouped into clumps according to color) and a ring of scattered papers all around him. They were case files, both cold cases and ongoing investigations alike, which Watari had retrieved for him from Scotland Yard. He was still too young to break out into the international scene of crime investigation, but already in England he had made quite a name for himself. Or rather, a letter.

The slamming of the front door reverberated through the orphanage, and he knew the other children were finally free of the inside only stipulation. All thanks to him of course. L did not envy them though. He didn't need to leave the small attic to have his fun, not when he was outwitting criminals and the departments attempting to catch said lawbreakers.

None of the files were grabbing his attention today however. There was no one particular case that reeked with challenge, nothing that could provide him with that feeling of satisfaction from a difficult win. His focus left the folders, just as they had been discarded on the floor, and he tottered over to the tiny window at the back of the attic. He pressed his face up against the glass, wanting to know about the cupcake girl's progress with the other children.

It only took L a moments glance to pick her out amongst the others. That ridiculous red bow was in her hair again. She was with Linda. There were few girls in the home around her age, so the two of them gravitating towards each other was an appropriate reaction. Linda was showing the girl her sketchbook, while the rest of the children continued to circle around the two in an attempt to impress by showcasing their own talents. The only other child not outside was BB, who had recently adopted the tiresome habit of imitating everything 'L' did.

A knock at his own door drew him back into the darkness of the attic, and L shifted around in time to see Watari stepping into the room. It only took one sweep of his guardian's eyes across the room for L to know that the scattered papers was something he would want to rectify.

"Anything of interest in this lot?" Watari inquired as he began to round up the papers into a pile.

L sighed, and retrieved his bowl of jellybeans. "Dismal, they're all rotten."

"Hmm." Watari made a sound in his throat. He stopped at the window. "I see you've noticed our guest."

Having pressed his face so close to the glass, L's nose had left behind a smudge. He turned his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment in thought before replying. "She's an only child, and friendless."

"Something she said to you before?"

"No, but I am also without siblings or friends," L said as he plopped a red jellybean into his mouth. "It's an easy mark to distinguish."

Watari gave him an admonishing look. "L, are the others not your family?"

"No. They were unfortunate in losing their parents, but brought here because of their higher intellect," L said, unblinking. "They are my successors."

"Many would choose to be your friend, if you'd let them."

"I'm better on my own."

"Will you come down, if only to greet our guest? She inquired as to your whereabouts."

"Cupcake?" asked L.

Watari chuckled, and L could not understand what he felt was humorous enough to warrant that reaction. "I see you've already created your own nickname. The children decided on 'C' as well, for Cherish."

L put a thumb to the corner of his mouth, thoughtful. "I suppose that will suffice."

"Come down, please," Watari tried again. "She's looking to make friends, and you could do with some."

L didn't understand why Watari was putting so much stress on this matter. One day soon he would be a world renowned private detective, and he would probably never stay in one place for too long. That kind of work wasn't meant for lasting friendships. And friends couldn't help solve cases faster. Informants and moles did that.

The more L thought about it, the more he realized Watari's concern had something to do with his grades. The children in Wammy's House were always tested, and L was no different. On matters of his intelligence, integrity, and creativity he excelled, but he had failed poorly with his social skills. He was not equipped with the means to interact appropriately with others, and he had no grasp on how to form lasting relationships with his peers. At first this had bothered him, but only because he strived to be the best at everything. But he had accepted this one flaw, only because he didn't see it as a necessary skill for his future.

"She is already making friends with the other children," said L.

"Yes, and I'm certain she would feel honored to have you on that list," Watari said. "May I remind you she isn't like the other children?"

He didn't need to be reminded. She was normal. Boring. But perhaps there was a chance with her own social skills being unrefined, he would be able sharpen his own. To better himself.

"I will come down," He conceded.

"Excellent, my boy," Watari said with a smile. "Shoes and a coat, please."

L let out a sigh as he set down his jellybeans, but he quickly stepped into a pair of trainers, tucking in the laces because he couldn't' be bothered to tie them up. The black coat he tugged on wasn't so different from the one he had worn when he had first come to the orphanage two years ago. Lavish clothing was another idea that escaped him. He had all the necessities to look presentable, and he wouldn't go beyond that.

Watari studied him for a moment, and there was an undecided look in his eyes. "You have the look of someone condemned to the gallows."

"This is my neutral expression," L said, and Watari gave him a knowing stare. His guardian could always see deeper than that. "I am trying, Watari."

"I know, and I will continue to encourage you to."

L passed by Watari to the door, leaving him in the attic to presumably finish cleaning up the mess of the case files. His legs felt heavy as he walked, like he had traded in for two tree trunks. The voices seemed impossibly loud to his ears as he descended the grand staircase to the main floor, and he was sure the orphanage hadn't seen a noisier day.

In no time at all he had reached the front door, and he stopped to stare at the brass handles. Turning a simple knob suddenly seemed as complicated as opening a bank vault. It certainly felt like he was on a timer. He shot his hand out quickly, and with a twist and a pull he was outside.

L decided not to go further than the stone steps. His drive gave out, and he crouched down on the last step connecting to the walkway. The air was cold, and he was uncomfortable, so he stuck his hands into his coat pockets. They were lined with old candy wrappers, and a mix of new ones he hadn't yet gotten to. He withdrew a sweet, savouring the sound of the plastic unwrapping before he popped into his mouth. Lemon flavor.

"Hey, L!"

His shoulders tensed at his name being called out so carelessly in the open. It was the girl, Cherish, of course. One of the others must have informed her of his identity. She had spotted him immediately, or had been keeping a close eye on the door. Something told him it was the latter.

She stopped before him, puffing from shortness of breath after running all the way to him. Her face was flushed, and she was exuding joy at his presence. It was unsettling.

"Hello again," He said.

"I was wondering if I would get to see you." She plunked down on the step beside him without asking permission. The closeness didn't seem to bother her. "I remembered what you taught me."

"Obviously."

The silence stretched on between them for a moment before L heard a jangling sound. Cherish pulled a small can out of her coat pocket that was wrapped in an orange label. She popped the top, and the smell of cinnamon exploded in the air. L watched intently as she poured out a handful of the treats into her palm, and began to munch on them slowly. It was pecans.

She seemed startled at first when she caught his staring, but her good manners quickly took over. "Did you want some?"

"Are they sweet?"

Her mouth was full from chewing, so she nodded instead. Tentatively, L reach his hand out towards hers and picked up a single pecan between his thumb and index finger. He brought it back towards his face, inspecting it closely by look and smell. He had already finished his lemon drop, so he brought the nut up to his mouth and plopped it on his tongue. The cinnamon sugar was overwhelmingly sweet. It was delicious.

Cherish let out a giggle beside him at the delight on his face. "Here, you can have them. I only brought them as a snack, I prefer the chocolate walnuts anyway."

He snatched the can up from her the moment she had offered. "You can come inside for something to eat. It's almost lunch, and Roger will have everything prepared."

She looked hesitant. "Really? I'm not sure how long I am allowed to stay."

"Will your parents send out an APB if you're away for too long?" L asked, his cheeks half full with pecans.

"I don't know what that is," She said glancing down.

He had embarrassed her. "Will they think you are missing if you aren't home by a certain time?"

"Oh, no, I told my mum I'd be back by three," She said. "I just didn't want to be a pain in anyone's side if I'm here too long."

With the way all the children were now looking in their direction, L doubted that very much. They'd probably let her stay the night if she was allowed to. But she had a home, and parents, and a curfew to get back to, none of which were familiar around Wammy House.

"So, is this a special school? Because everyone here is super smart, like out of a comic book or something." Cherish said, turning her body towards him.

"Wammy's House isn't a school, it's a home for gifted orphans."

"So are you going to get a new family? Because my dad said orphans get adopted, and then go live with their new parents."

"None of the children here are up for adoption," said L. He couldn't imagine following rules and routine after the lax atmosphere under Wammy's roof. "We're the unadoptable."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

L blinked, pausing in his eating to gauge her reaction. "Why?"

"Don't you want to have a mum and dad?"

"No." He had done well thus far without parental guidance, well beyond the average child. Watari as his guardian was all he required. L would never long for something he'd never had.

Cherish snorted, and L wasn't under the impression that he had said something humorous. "You probably don't need parents, you're the most adult kid I've ever met. How old are you anyway?"

"I'm ten."

"I'm eleven, I'm older than you," She said, like it was a competition.

"Not for much longer. My birthday is on Halloween," He let slip, even though he hardly felt it was worth celebrating.

"Really?" She leapt up from the step, her unexpected movement nearly causing L to spill the can of nuts. "I'll have to get you a present. What do you want?"

His eyes widened as he took in her beaming face above him. He felt twitchy with unease from her uncommon kindness directed at him. "You want to get me a present?"

"Yes, we're friends now."

She said it so simple. Friends. Was she so desperate to have acceptance from her own peers that she would seek to call him, and the other lost children of Wammy's, her friends?

"You don't know me."

Her smile faltered, but she didn't let him stop her. "I know that you're L, and that you like sweet pecans. A-and I'm sure Roger and Wammy would help me."

 _Yes, they most certainly would_. Watari would see her as the best opportunity for him to practice his social skills, and would probably answer any questions she had.

"If you must," said L. That was as much permission as he would give. Knowing his name and that he liked sweets barely qualified as being familiar with him, but she'd have to sort that problem out herself.

The double doors of the house opened behind them, and Cherish looked up with surprise. L didn't move. It was Roger, coming to announce that lunch was ready to be served in the great hall.

"Good, I'm hungry," She said once Roger finished.

Her coat coming into viewed blocked out the sun, and L felt a tug on his sleeve. He frowned. No one ever engaged in physical contact with him, not even Watari anymore.

"Come inside and sit with me."

His immediate reaction was to refuse. L never ate his meals with the others. But then that low grade starting floating around in his head. _1/10 social skills_. He couldn't accept that. If he could at least be convincing enough with his interactions, even if he had to fake them, he will have accomplished something.

"Alright, but only if I can have your dessert," He said, standing to a slouch.

"Deal."

She ran up the steps ahead of him, trusting him to follow. And L did, for the chance to better himself, and for her dessert (though mostly for the cake that he knew Roger had made). He thought to himself as he climbed up the steps behind her that the children had gotten one thing correct. She made a better Cherish than Cupcake.

* * *

 **I kind of feel bad that L is using her for his own means, but at the same time there's no way he was ever going to actively seek out friends on his own time. I liked exploring his father/son bond with Watari too, it's something I wanted to explore and it will continue. Also I wanted to at least celebrate his birthday once, because you know once he's older, that's just another passing day that goes unmentioned by him. I will be doing time jumps throughout this story, which you guys probably already figured out, but I just wanted to let you know all the same. Cheers!**


	4. A Song For L

**Back again with a new chapter! I wanted to get this one out close to Halloween for L's birthday, so here it is. Thanks again to all of you reading or reviewing, I know it's a bit of a slow start and this fandom might not be as large as it once was, but I appreciate you fans who are enjoying it.**

 **Disclaimer: I only own any OC's or original plot points.**

* * *

It turned out that finding the right gift for L was a lot more difficult than Cherish had originally thought. From what she gathered around the house from the children, and from Roger and Wammy, L wasn't exactly a 'fun' person. He was a bit of a stick in the mud, at least that was what Able had said.

He also had so many spectacular things that would make any gift she gave him look like rubbish in comparison. A computer, a top of the line tennis racket, and of course every book he could ever need in the Wammy House library. There wasn't much left after that which he could possibly need. Her last resort had been to buy the cake, but of course Roger had already placed an order at the best baker shop in Winchester a week ago. Her list of options was growing thin, and it was already two days away.

"So you have you costume ready?" Linda asked from where she sat on her bed.

Cherish was on the floor of Linda's room, going through her many sketchbooks that ranged from minimalist pencil etchings to bright watercolor epics. Everyone in Wammy's House was perfect.

"Yeah, I'm going to be Sheeta from Castle in the Sky," Cherish said with a grin. "It's not complicated, and I don't have to wear face paint or anything."

"I don't like wearing face paint either," said Linda, which Cherish thought was funny considering she was the artist in the house. "I'm going as Vincent Van Gogh. Wammy's going to help me with the wig and beard."

"He was the guy who cut his ear off, right? We talked about him in school."

Linda rolled her eyes and giggled. "Yes, but he's so much more than that! His pointillism period is my favorite. I've even started using oil on canvas."

Cherish didn't know much about art, and she knew even less about artists. She simply shrugged and nodded along with her friend. "So Halloween here is a big dinner party?"

"Because of L's birthday, yeah. You can count on there being lots of candy, and usually a scary movie after, though L doesn't usually stay for that," said Linda. "Which leads us back to your problem. You still don't know what to get him for a gift?"

"No, I've never had to buy a gift for a friend before, and never for a boy. I don't really think there is anything I can get that he would appreciate."

"You're probably right about that," said Linda. "But maybe you don't have to buy him anything. You could make a kind gesture. Wammy always says it's the thought that counts."

"Like what?"

"Well, for everyone's birthday, I always draw a picture, something personal that I know they'll like. What's something you could do specifically for L?"

Cherish could only think of the one talent she possessed, and that was to play the violin. She wasn't like a Wammy House child; they were naturally gifted in their skills, whereas she had been practicing her music since she was five to perfect it. Did L even like music?

"I guess I could play him a song," Cherish said quietly. "Do you think he would like that?"

Linda twirled one of her short pigtails around her finger as she spoke. "I'm not really sure if L enjoys many of the things we do for him, but I don't see what harm it would cause. Wammy and Roger will appreciate it anyway."

Cherish wasn't worried about impressing anyone else though. She wanted L to like her gift, and she would be mortified to find out he hated music, or worse that he thought she was talentless.

"I guess I can look through my sheet music and see if there's anything there that he would enjoy."

"Why not Happy Birthday?"

Cherish pulled a face until she realized Linda was joking. "I think I'm gonna have to pick something that's 'clever'," She said, using air quotes.

"Good luck with that," said Linda, stretching out across her bed.

Cherish looked down at the tiny hands on her wristwatch and frowned. It was already time for her to start heading back home. Her periods at the orphanage always seemed to fly by, and the time she spent waiting to return had slowed to a crawl. At least she didn't have to climb over the gate anymore. Roger had reactivated the intercom system now that it was being regularly used. She was now buzzed into Wammy's House.

"I'll see you later Linda," She said, rising up from the floor. "Hopefully with a piece of music I can test out on you."

"Alright." Linda's voice had grown downcast, as it usually did when it came time for Cherish to leave. "About L's gift; maybe pick something that has to do with friendship? I know you're trying to be his friend, and music might work better than words ever could."

It was genius! But of course it was, and the Wammy kids never seemed to get over their surprise when she was amazed by their talents.

"That's perfect Linda." Cherish gave the girl a tight hug before springing back off the bed. "I have an idea."

She left the orphanage with renewed purpose, and with the small hope that she might be able to surprise L after all.

* * *

There was still sunlight left in the sky on Halloween when L finished his third bowl of candy corn. Despite never dressing up in a costume, the theme of the holiday was eerily suited to be his date of birth. The stars had aligned, and all of the sugar cane in the world must have doubled its production the year he came into being.

He sat and watched quietly while the rest of the house moved around him with the spirit of celebration. Pumpkins had mouths sliced into them by Roger, with no two smirks or grins alike. The eyes seemed to give him a bit of trouble, because they all were cut into the same upside-down triangles. What was left over from the pumpkins had gone into making pies, and the spicy scent was prevalent throughout the home.

Soft, gossamer webs had been strung from every rafter and beam, and Able had helped Watari string up lights and streamers whilst on the ladder. A plastic skeleton or two had made it up from the basement, and were occupying different unsuspecting corners of the home. It was all a bit much, more than L had seen of their efforts in previous years, and he knew Wammy House's newest acquaintance had something to do with it.

Cherish had arrived a little while ago, and had disappeared upstairs with Linda to get into her costume. L was curious what her choice would be. He might not like to pretend to be something else, but observing everyone else's costumes was something he enjoyed. It spoke volumes about what they admired in a fictional character, what qualities they were lacking in and wished they possessed.

That maybe wasn't the case for everyone. Zachariah was an ill-inspired mummy, though he had forgone using toilet tissue and had instead wrapped himself in the expensive gauze from the emergency kit. He was leaving a trail of it around the house, and one long piece had unraveled into a tail dragging behind him.

He had already seen Linda's Vincent Van Gogh. Watari had been helping with laying down her beard all morning, and now she could be seen prancing through the house as a short, ginger haired man with a straw hat.

Able's costume stumped him. It was either uncreative, or a character L did not know about. He wore a brown vest, and a hat with a strap around his chin, and large goggles perched on his head. Perhaps he was a miner? He did have on a big pair of work boots, and carried a satchel with the strap slung over his shoulder.

It seemed only L and the adults were the ones not in costume. And maybe BB, though no one had spotted him yet. L was growing bored of watching the decorating happening around, and so he crept down off of the chair he had been perched on, in search of something more interesting. Or rather, someone interested in seeing him. Cherish had already made such a big fuss over his birthday, he might as well claim whatever gift she had brought.

He started towards the grand staircase, and only Watari seemed to notice. He smiled under his mustache, something L had caught him doing a lot of recently. Of course L noticed the smallest changes in anyone if he knew where to look, so it was likely that Watari wasn't trying to be discreet.

His bare feet shuffled along on the carpet as he made it upstairs, listening for the sound of that familiar, silvery voice. There was something to the left, muffled talking coming from the music room. His body seemed to know where it was going before his mind could decide, and he traveled down the dark corridor to the double doors. Instead of entering right away, L stopped and listened. It was not Linda with her. The voice that spoke was one not often heard around Wammy House, and he was confused when Cherish called him 'L'. That is, until he stepped into the room.

Cherish looked L's way once she heard him come through the door. Her hair hung in two braids over each shoulder, tied in pink ribbons, and a headband worn along her crown. Her dress was midnight blue, and she wore red slippers on her feet. L didn't know who she was.

More disturbing was her companion beside her. It was BB, only painted up to resemble L himself. He was still draped in all black, but he was sitting in a crouch with his hands clutching his knees. The smile he gave L was positively hungry.

"L?" Cherish said, looking from the door and then back to BB beside her. "Then you can't be him."

BB sighed with disappointment. "Fun's over." He abandoned his act, standing up straight while regarding L. "And I almost got to your birthday gift before you did. You don't play fair L, how is it you always win?"

"I'm better than you," L said brusquely before turning to Cherish. Her mouth was still stuck in a small 'o', and he worried she might be permanently damaged. "You've had the experience of meeting Beyond Birthday." Because it certainly wasn't a pleasure.

"Beyond Birthday?" She questioned, turning her head up to BB who stared back with no expression. "And are you related."

"No."

"Like brothers."

L and BB said in unison.

Beyond then let out a chuckle as he reached down for the jar of strawberry jam that he had brought with him. He stuck his index finger into the gooey sweetness and scooped up a big glob that he happily sucked away at. His slurps were loud and gut churning.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Cherish," He said with his finger still in his mouth. "I look forward to talking with you again."

He said it with such certainty. It was a quality that made him number two in line, after Able, to be L's successor. Confidence was good, but having humility was better. While L always favored someone with a nasty look in their eyes, there was something in BB's that was unpleasant.

Beyond walked up closely beside L as he started for the door, slowing to a halt once he was shoulder to shoulder with him. "I almost convinced her," He whispered in a hiss.

"You never will again," L retorted.

BB's stare was on him like a blood stain, warm and heavy even after he had left the room. L was aware that Cherish was watching him cautiously, barely making a sound even to breathe.

"If you ever have doubts of who you are talking to," L began. "Check the door handle. It will be sticky because of the constant licking of his fingers."

"Oh, that makes sense," Cherish said, the tension leaving her body once L joined her on the floor of the music room. "Does he do that often, er—dress up like you?"

"It is a new tactic, one I find to be disagreeable." L thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to the rafters of the ceiling. "Though he does hate me, so it is not surprising with our already close resemblance."

"How do you know he hates you?" Cherish said, looking distraught that such a thing could be true. She would be surprised to learn later that mostly everyone L came across found him a nuisance.

"Because he told me as such. It wasn't long after we met, though I've quite forgotten the triggering event." L didn't want to discuss his rivalry with BB any longer though, and he trained his eyes back on her. "Who are you?"

She didn't answer him immediately, her mind taking a moment to catch up to his abrupt change in topic. Once she caught on, she gave a nervous tug on one of her braids, and looked down at her lap. "Right, my costume. I'm Sheeta … from Castle in the Sky. It's a film."

"I don't watch many films."

"That doesn't surprise me," She said with a laugh. "I don't really look like her anyway. She has dark hair, but I didn't want to wear a wig."

Chocolate frosting wasn't as good as vanilla anyway. At least L didn't think so. "Pretending to be someone else is silly. To not be myself is an unappealing notion."

"It's only for a day, and it's fun." She stretched her legs out before her, clapping her shoes together like she was Dorothy. "So do you want your present now?"

"Yes," said L. Most people would try to be humble about receiving a gift, but he didn't bother to be polite. It was meant for him, and he wanted it, so why refuse?

Cherish stood and crossed the room to the table, before returning a moment later with a red vinyl violin case. L frowned. "While the gesture is appreciated, I am inclined to tell you I do not play the violin."

"But I do," She returned, setting the case down and popping the lid open. "And my gift is a song. I was going to play it for everyone, but I think it's better if only you hear it."

A song felt oddly personal, something shared between them rather than something tangible he could have unwrapped. L noticed she didn't have any sheet music with her as she took to the front of the room where he shifted his attention. At first he assumed it was going to be a piece she had memorized from lessons, something familiar that all musical beginners could play. Her fingers plucked a few notes on the strings, and then she started. It was not a poor rendition of Clair De Lune.

The song L received that day was not something he recognized. Her bow produced a sound that was glad, and he felt warmed by it. Her intonation was nearly perfect, and with the way she swayed, he was certain there were lyrics that could have accompanied the piece. But L didn't need the words. Cherish held her eyes closed, but she smiled through her playing, her fingers never losing their place on the strings. The song ended on a high, flourishing note. It was a moment that came too soon.

She stepped down from the platform, returning to him in shy steps that belonged to a deer treading snow in winter. "Happy birthday, L."

It never occurred to him to ask the name of the piece. Instead he chose a different question, one formed out of greed because the others would soon come to take them away for the Halloween celebrating.

"Could you play it once more, please?"

She smiled, and gave him the gift that would last through many of his birthdays to come.

* * *

 **This is my favorite chapter so far! I actually had fun writing for BB even though I don't think I will make him a huge part (because obviously Light is going to be in here later) I purposefully kept the name of the song from you guys because L doesn't know what it is called either, and this is essentially his story, not Cherish's. You can make guesses if you want, lol though I didn't really leave any clues about it, but maybe you guys will think of a better song than I have in mind. I know Cherish probably would have made a better Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle because of her white hair, but in my timeline this would have been 1993 (L born in 82, him turning 11) so Howl wouldn't have been made yet. I'm a huge Studio Ghibli fan so let me know if you guys have a favorite movie!**


	5. Homesick

**Alright so this chapter is a bit different, it takes place in the Story's present timeline during the L.A.B.B. case and L is 19 years old. As I have said this is his story, anything that takes place in the past will most likely be his memories (unless it's in Cherish's POV). Let me know what you think of this change of pace, and thanks again as always to my fans who read, review and are following this journey!**

* * *

L didn't know why he was caught up in his memories. Pondering the past wasn't a pass time he entertained often. Perhaps because it was his birthday again, and he wouldn't be at Wammy's House to celebrate it. He never did anymore. It wasn't a luxury he couldn't afford to make time for, even though Cherish always begged him to try. Except she hadn't this time, and maybe that was why his thoughts wouldn't settle.

He stared outside at the expanse of Los Angeles, a city that remained lit up, even in the darkness of night. A longing for England hit him hard, even though he no longer considered it home because the number of cases he was taking on kept him moving from place to place. But that Halloween, in particular, refused to leave his thoughts. His favorite birthday. He still had a recording of the song Cherish had played for him that she and Matt had later created, and he listened to it on his birthday every year. Except he had forgotten to bring it with him to L.A., and now his ears were ringing with emptiness.

Briefly, he wondered what the children had dressed up as this year, but then with the difference in time, he knew that it was already November in England. He recalled Able's strange costume that had stumped him. It had turned out to be another character from Castle in the Sky. Pazu. L still had not gotten around to watching the film.

Able had wanted to surprise Cherish, and Linda had previously filled him in on her costume. When Cherish had seen A, she had let out a giggle, and he had run up to her, picking her up and swinging her around with surprising strength. L had watched from the stairs with a sense of detachment and confusion. He had pondered whether or not it was a normal thing to behave with friends in such a manner. Cherish hadn't seemed bothered by it.

Linda had drawn him another picture for his present, the same as she had always done, and still continued to do. But his eleventh birthday had started a new trend in the pictures. Before L had received sketches of landscapes, animals, and of Wammy House, but on that day Linda had given him a drawing of himself sitting on the steps of the orphanage with Cherish. It was tucked away in a box with all of the other pictures Linda had given him over the years, hidden somewhere safe so it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands.

L wished he could look at them now. This was turning out to be a terrible birthday, for as much as he put importance on the day that is. He was eating cake alone in an L.A. hotel room with no new leads, and his best friend was on the other side of the world, probably still angry with him. But it wasn't his fault, and he refused to dwell on it. He would accept Cherish's apology willingly once she came to her senses.

He felt a modicum of discomfort for how things were left between them. They sometimes bickered with each other, usually because of conflicting opinions, but this time they had been in a real fight, and feelings had been hurt. L began to think the day he always knew and started to fear had come, that Cherish had outgrown Wammy's House. Had outgrown him. The novelty of the bizarre outcasts had finally faded for her, but then Watari had said that in his last contact with Roger that she had still been coming by to the house. Maybe it was just him she no longer wanted to see.

Eight years was a long time in his short nineteen, and she was his second longest relationship after Watari. So she had to come back to him. There were too many memories between them to throw that all away after one spat. No one was that fickle. But he wouldn't be the first to seek her out for an apology. Everything he had said was correct, it wasn't his fault she had been too sensitive in receiving his words.

There was a knock at the hotel door, and a moment later Watari popped inside. He was holding a large manila envelope under his arm. "Something came for you, Ryuzaki, from England."

L met Watari halfway, his interest piqued. He took the envelope, holding it up by each corner between his pinched fingers. The writing he recognized belonged to Linda. She had a bold and extravagant penmanship. "Sent by express I assume."

"It would appear as such, sir," said Watari. "A birthday card would be my guess."

L climbed onto one of the floral upholstered armchairs and set to work on peeling open the envelope at the tab. He didn't like the idea of any of the orphans sending him something while he was undercover on a case. It left a paper trail to him, and back to them as well. He'd never needed a considerate reminder of his birthday when he was away before, so why this year?

Turning the envelope on its side, he plucked out the contents of it. One was a birthday card. It was plain white with a pink watercolor tulip painted on the front. Inside was a generic poem about friendship (store-bought since none of the Wammy children ever had the gift of metrical composition) and all of the names of the orphans were signed inside. Matt's name was large and messy. Near's was small and neat in the bottom right corner. Mello had signed his name above Near's so he would be noticed first. Zachariah had signed his name in Japanese just because he had learned to do so. And so forth.

L couldn't lie to himself about searching for Cherish's name first. It was there, with a small heart drawn in red ink beside it. Did this mean she forgave him? Or was she just displaying her maturity, that she still cared enough about him as a friend on his birthday even when they weren't currently speaking? The card wasn't enough evidence to draw up such a conclusion.

The other thing Linda had tucked inside of the envelope was her gift. Another picture, this time finished in chalk pastel. It was drawn from the point of view of standing on the steps of Wammy's House, a familiar spot that he had occupied enough to know it. The closed gate was in the distance, and the time of day was dusk. A girl was walking down the pathway towards the gate; a girl with a red ribbon in her white hair. Cherish leaving Wammy's House.

L doubted the other orphans knew Linda had sent this picture with the card. It was meant for his eyes only. A sad message. Something in his chest felt heavy and cold. He set the picture on the glass side table, facedown so he wouldn't be tempted by it. Tempted to return to England.

"Ryuzaki?" Watari asked, and L had almost forgotten he was there.

"It's nothing," He replied. "No, actually it is emotionally manipulative of Linda. I suppose this is what one would call a guilt trip."

He had used such a tactic in the past, though he didn't appreciate the feeling of having this trick used against him. One time he had used it on Cherish. It was the first night she had ever slept over at the orphanage, and she had been homesick.

* * *

It was three in the morning, and L was the only one awake in the house. This wasn't an unusual occurrence. He managed on short ninety-minute sleep cycles now, and those didn't necessarily fall into the time of night. This arrangement wasn't perfect, however. L insisted to Watari that he should still follow his nightly routine of seven hours of sleep from eleven until six. His guardian couldn't function to his maximum potential at half-life. Unfortunately the arrangement left L without a helping hand between those hours, and currently, he was craving hot chocolate.

It didn't matter how many other sweets he consumed, his brain, or his stomach, was set on wanting hot cocoa. All of his progress on the current kidnapping case was at a standstill, and so he abandoned his post in the attic in favor of the kitchen. It was no secret that he wasn't exactly self-reliant, but how difficult was it to make hot chocolate, really?

He moved through the sleeping house without a sound. The moonlight coming through the windows lit his way for him, and his eyes adjusted well to the darker corners that weren't illuminated. The swinging door of the kitchen was in sight, but as he crossed over the hallway from the stairs, he noticed a silhouette by the window in the sitting room. Her presence made him halt and backtrack. She was supposed to be on the air mattress on the floor of Linda's room. No one else would have a reason to be up at this ungodly hour. Also, her white hair picked up the silver of the moonlight, making her stand out like a beacon.

"Cherish, why are you awake?" He asked quietly, though she startled regardless.

"L," She breathed, twisting towards him with her hands clenched before her. "You are terrible for sneaking up on people, you know. What are you doing down here anyway?"

"Needing hot cocoa. I wouldn't recommend running home at this hour," He said, settling onto the soft couch with his knees pulled tight to his chest. "Homesickness is a natural reaction for someone who's never stayed overnight elsewhere before. You can relax."

"Easy for you to say," She sniffed. Her hair was undone, and the soft waves made her look more juvenile than the strict, cool act she so carefully crafted during the day.

"Yes, it is. I've been to many different places for tennis championships. I also plan to travel the world once I'm a detective."

"You have such big plans, L," said Cherish, coming to sit down on the couch beside him. The cushion barely sunk under her weight. "Aren't you scared?"

And here he'd thought she had already figured out how clever everyone was at Wammy's House. "No, I'm careful."

Cherish looked at him, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, while she searched for what he meant by ' _careful_ '. She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, but L could see she was a moment away from falling down from lack of sleep.

"Go to bed, Cherish."

"You aren't sleeping," She argued.

"I'm not tired," L retorted, resting his head on his arms as he gave her a sidelong glance. Then an idea came to him. "However, I'll go to bed, but only after you do."

Cherish scowled. "That's not fair."

L chewed on his thumb. "But it's not unreasonable."

L wasn't sure if it was the guilt that got to her or the exhaustion, but at some point in the night Cherish dozed off, huddled up into the right arm of the couch. He didn't mean to keep his promise, but L fell asleep while waiting for her to as well. He hadn't even moved out of his perched position.

When Roger found them in the morning, they were both stiffer than a pair of retirees, and L thought it might have been better if they had just stayed up the rest of the moonlit hours. But Cherish had thanked him for staying with her, unintentional as it might have been. He had given her the courage to be away from her parents, and from then on she frequently stayed the night at Wammy's House.

* * *

 _And I never even got my hot chocolate_ , L thought despondently.

"Ryuzaki," Watari interrupted his thoughts. During L's reminiscing, he had turned over the picture on the side table and studied it with concern. "Do you wish to return to England?"

L imagined Cherish's face in his mind, the look of devastation she had shown the last time they had spoken. His chest tightened. "No. I need to finish this case, Watari. Cherish will have to wait."

If he was disappointed by this choice, Watari didn't let it show. He bowed at the waist and returned the picture as it had been on the side table before leaving the room.

A dull quiet followed his absence. L stood up from the chair, needing distance from the drawing. It seemed strange to be unsettled by so small a thing. The emotions Linda had evoked from her gift weren't so trifling though, and they had L set on running. First, he would find BB and bring an end to his monstrous game. Then he could allow himself to see Cherish again.

' _Please, wait for me.'_

* * *

 **So currently L and Cherish are in some kind of fight, and we'll find out why later. It was just fun mentioning Matt, Mello, and Near and I can't wait to write how each one of them came to be at Wammy's. It's Halloween, Happy Birthday L, and have a spooky time my fans, don't eat too much candy :)**


	6. The Design & Purpose

**Back with chapter six. Another look into the paat of Wammy's House, and this time someone familiar has arrived! A special thanks to desertwolves for being the newest reviewer. And thanks all around to all of you guys reading, I'm glad this story is bringing enjoyment to people out there. Cheers!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own any ocs and original plot points.**

* * *

 _When L and Cherish were both 15 years old, things began to change in Wammy's House_

It was summer, and L had just returned to Wammy's orphanage after winning the junior tennis singles championship. He had made a promise to himself this year, that it would be his last. He was retiring from the game, win or lose, though he made sure to win. The thrill of winning in tennis was no longer enough to keep him motivated. In fact, when he wasn't solving cases, he would begin to feel depressed. Now was the time to act, he would become the world's greatest detective. He had already made a name for himself as Deneuve, and he was working on creating another alias to serve as a guise from L.

While his new shiny trophy seemed to be nothing more than an object to collect dust, Cherish was quite taken with it. She had been standing in front of the shelf admiring its place among the previous awards he had won. All of the nameplates read the same false identity; Rue Ryuzaki. He couldn't have claimed any of his wins under his real name, not without there being legal documentation that could lead back to him in the future.

"You're amazing, you know," Cherish said, turning around to him with a smile.

"Yes, you've told me often enough. Though, that you are a person of average intelligence among a house of the intellectually talented, your praise isn't difficult to come by."

Cherish made a sound of annoyance and placed her hands firmly on her hips. "Admit it, if I suddenly stopped complimenting you, you'd miss it."

"There is a strong possibility of that happening," L admitted, his eyes skyward.

"I know," She returned cheekily. Her eyes then lit up with excitement. "So when is he getting here?"

The ' _he_ ' in question being the new child Watari was bringing home to the orphanage. He had discovered the boy while away to be a guest speaker at a conference for new inventors.

"Going by their flight itinerary, it should be within the hour."

"You don't sound very enthused. Jealous of there being a new genius in the house?" Cherish teased.

"No, I value every young mind that comes here."

L wouldn't share this with her, but the reason for his lacking anticipation was because he was nervous. He detested meeting new people. Along with that came first impressions, and L knew he was disappointing at best. It had worked well for Cherish, but he had been given time to observe her from a distance before they had actually come into contact. But Wammy's House had not seen a new face in years, and L struggled with interacting with his peers.

The timing of this boy's arrival was unexpected. L hadn't realized Watari was searching for new children so soon. Perhaps it was because his progress as a detective was heightening, and neither he nor Watari would be around the orphanage. There was also trouble in the way of finding a successor. Able appeared to have lost his spark in achieving the title, while BB had withdrawn so far into himself that he was hardly ever seen. The only evidence that Beyond still lived there was when he could be heard crawling around on all fours in his room, or worse when he would laugh. It was a bone-chilling sound, and no one could guess what he was laughing at, all alone with nothing but the four walls to keep him company.

L returned his attention to Cherish, who had taken a seat on his bed. Watari had insisted he needed the thing for his short sleep cycles. He had the bad habit of falling asleep while still perching on his chair, which had resulted in one too many bruises when he fell out of it. At least if he fell while sitting on the bed, it would be a soft mattress.

"You are excited to meet this boy. Why?"

"Because, it's gaining a new friend," Cherish said with all of the wonderment she still held for the orphans.

"He's five years old."

"Yeah, but what does that mean in terms of you geniuses? By my estimate, you have the mentality of a sixty-year-old. Wise beyond your years and all that."

"Do you need a new friend?" L wondered, hating how juvenile he sounded.

"I might, if you'll be leaving all the time." Her eyes fell, and she failed to give him a convincing smile.

It was then that L felt it. That same awful tightening in his gut that made him squirm in discomfort. It was happening more frequently around her, and he had the sudden thought that it was inappropriate for her to be alone in his room with him. On his bed. And they were fifteen.

He shot up from the floor, eyes wide and heart racing like he'd just finished a marathon. Cherish looked equally stunned by his abrupt movement.

"Let's go wait downstairs," He said, his voice high but emotionless all at once.

"Okay?" She said, uncertain.

Cherish followed his shuffling to the door, both of them meeting at the jamb at the same time. He was taller than her now, able to look down at her vanilla head that she still topped with a cherry. She smelt like honey.

He let her leave first, because of etiquette, and because walking side-by-side felt strange. It was better to hang back and watch her lead. In fact, watching her at all had become his habit.

It was difficult being a teenager and being L. He had grown aware of women from the models in Linda's magazines, to the starlets on Zachariah's television. Beauty was something to enjoy, but he was unequipped on how to deal with that knowledge. L chose to simply watch.

The main floor of Wammy's house was quiet. Zachariah was watching a black and white film on the television in the den, and Linda was seated across from him, her pencils and sketchbook beside her. No one else was in the room.

"What are you watching?" Cherish asked Zachariah, going up behind him on the couch.

He looked back over his shoulder, smiling in surprise at their arrival. L stared back blankly. "Gilda. Rita Hayworth was a beauty. Stars don't look like her anymore."

"I've never seen it," said Cherish.

Zach laughed. "Probably because it's from nineteen forty-six."

"Oh." Cherish flushed as red as her ribbon.

L stared at her rosy cheeks, fascinated by the reaction. She seemed to grow more embarrassed around them as the years went by, losing the boldness that came with childhood. That was quite common of teenage girls.

He had erred in staring at her for too long because Linda had caught him. She tossed him a questioning look, a faint blonde brow raised on her forehead. L ignored the implication and trudged over to the armchair across the room to crouch on to. He decided to reflect on the newest case in his head again, though his hands felt decidedly empty without a plate of cake.

The four of them sat peacefully in the den, only the crisp sound of the film playing in the background. It was a while before Roger came into the room, interrupting their afternoon to tell them of Watari's return.

"Wammy has arrived with the young lad. I think it would be best if he is introduced to all of you. We wouldn't want to overwhelm him just as he's setting his foot through the door."

Cherish's face visibly brightened with eagerness, while Zach and Linda looked cautious.

"Why do you think we're getting a new kid now?" Zachariah said as he paused his film.

"Don't know," said Linda, keeping watch of the door. "But it must be important if Wammy is going out searching again."

"I thought he had a conference?"

"He did," said L, and all eyes flicked towards him. "He happened across the boy a day before his presentation."

Zachariah had his mouth opened, about to say something more before all of their ears picked up on the sound of footsteps coming in through the front door of the orphanage. Linda and Cherish sat up straighter in their seats, and Zach sagged lower in his.

"Man, do we really need a new kid?" He grumbled.

"Hush," said Cherish. "It's awful being the new kid, especially in a place where everyone already knows each other. You don't want to make him feel worse, do you?"

Zach scowled. "I haven't decided yet."

Cherish tossed him a withering look, that melted immediately into a smile once she heard Watari speaking with Roger. L was relieved by the presence of his guardian as well, but only because it meant he could leave London again for another case.

" _It's only four of them_ ," said Roger from behind the door.

" _Excellent. I think a proper introduction is in order, don't you_ ,"

Cherish failed at appearing nonchalant as Watari came into the den with his new ward. She beamed at the boy, who was a skinny thing, clutching tight to Watari's hand. L remembered a boy, standing outside the gate in the middle of winter, his hand clasped with the older gentleman who stood across the room from him now.

"This is M, and I want you all to bid him welcome to Wammy's House," said Watari as he steered the boy forward.

Zachariah let out a haggard sigh. Linda and Cherish greeted him kindly. L stared.

So this was M. He had the same air of abandonment hanging around him that the rest of the orphans had arrived with. His limp, yellow hair hung to his chin, choppy and uneven. A pair of ice blue eyes peered back at the four of them distantly, and he let go of Watari's hand to cross his arms in front of his chest.

The others began introducing themselves.

"Hi M, my name's Cherish, it's great to meet you."

"I'm Linda."

"I'm Zachariah."

"I'm Loris," said L. He felt the other's looking at him in confusion, their heads turning so fast it was a wonder they didn't receive whiplash.

M didn't pay attention to that. His mouth stayed in a thin line, and his gaze wandered off to the side. "I don't want to be here." He said.

"Oh no," Zach whispered, quietly enough so Watari and the boy didn't hear.

"You're just feeling nervous I'm sure," said Cherish, speaking up. "Why don't you let us show you around?"

M glared back at her before turning to Watari. "Can I go to my room now?"

Watari was patient and did not falter when faced with a difficult child, unlike Cherish who appeared despondent that the boy hadn't immediately taken to her like the rest of Wammy's children had.

"Roger has already made up your room, M. All of your belongings are there, and you may go unpack them if you wish. It's the last door on the right."

The boy didn't even utter a word of gratitude before he skirted around Watari and took off for the stairs. Roger made a nonsensical comment about running around the house with shoes on, which surely fell on M's deaf ears.

"Give him time," Watari said after a moment. "Each of you dealt in your own way, adjusting to a new home. M must be allowed the same privilege."

L could count on his toes how many seconds it was after Watari left that Linda circled over to him. She was all suspicion and ready for answers. "Loris?"

L blinked back. "You don't like it?"

"Why did you lie?" Cherish asked. She had plopped down on the couch shortly after M had brusquely dismissed her attempt at friendship.

"I do not want him, or any other children that Watari may bring here, to know I am L."

"I figured that," said Linda. "But why?"

L wasn't sure how to word it in a polite manner. Thankfully, Zachariah saved him from having to do so.

"It's starting over again. Able and BB are failing, aren't they?" He said, the concern apparent in his voice.

L nodded back.

Zachariah threw his hands up into his hair. "Makes sense I guess. None of the rest of us want to be a detective. A and B were your best chances."

"Best chance for what?" Cherish asked.

L ignored her. "It's better for this new generation not to know my identity. It became too personal for Able, and Beyond."

"Excuse me," Cherish snapped, popping up from the couch. "Can someone please explain to me what's happening? Does it have to do with why Able has been acting so strangely?"

Zachariah and Linda shared a hesitant look. L roved his gaze over Cherish a moment before bringing his thumb up to his mouth. "I would like to speak with Cherish alone."

Zachariah tugged on Linda's sleeve, causing her to tumble forward. She glared at her friend but followed after his retreating figure. L waited until the door closed and they were far enough away, before starting. He knew this conversation would come eventually, but he was still finding it difficult to meet Cherish's eyes head-on.

"Wammy's House isn't just an orphanage for gifted children. For years now, it has served as a facility for grooming a successor for me."

"For someone else to become a detective like you?" Cherish asked.

"In the simplest definition, yes. The world must have justice, L will always be needed," He said, making his way over to the couch. He squatted down on it beside her, watching her from the corner of his eye. "Even if I'm no longer present."

Cherish lost all of the color in her face, turning pale like a ghost. "I hate to think what that means."

"Someone else must become L if ever I am incapacitated … or dead. It is a truth I've known and accepted for years."

"But I don't have to accept it, and I don't."

"I can't change your mind or how you feel. I just wanted you to know," said L. "But Watari and I went about it all wrong. Able and Beyond weren't consulted about this idea, and what it means to become L. Their very designs have become flawed, and now I wouldn't consider either of them worthy of this title."

"So now what happens? Wammy brings home a bunch of new kids, and the cycle starts over again," said Cherish, speaking out in anger.

"Things will be different this time. For one thing, Roger is getting too along in years to run the house alone, and since Watari is to accompany me on cases, someone new must be here to assist."

"Might I suggest hiring a woman? This house could use a lighter touch."

Maternal. It was something Wammy's House had been missing until Cherish had come along, but she was still too young to take on such a burden. L saw the logic in her idea, however. "I will inform Roger to put out an ad for a matriarchal figure."

Neither of them said anything else. For Cherish, the idea of him no longer being present must have been unbearable. L never considered his own death much before, but now that he was gaining in the ways of his work, it had become an inevitability. He could die young, and he didn't know how to feel about that. What he did understand, was Cherish's torment over his mortality. He would probably feel the same if their roles were reversed.

L jolted as Cherish's head came down to rest on his shoulder. She let out a pitiful sigh, and he eased into her presence. For now, she needed the comfort. He brought his hand forward, resting it on her knee and unfurled his fingers with his palm resting upwards, invitingly. She took the cue because a moment later her gentle fingers entwined with his boney ones.

He knew then; he certainly would feel the same.

* * *

 **Say hello to grumpy, kid Mello! He hasn't come up with this name for himself yet, but I'll get to that. I figure he wouldn't have changed much since he was little, he just needs to develop his chocolate fixation. And of course a lot happened here with Cherish and L, so I'll let you guys talk and reflect on that. See you next time!**


	7. Born Angry

**Thanks to desertwolves, Dante96, SaintsFan1, and Guest for their kind words! This chapter has more about Mello, Able, and of course L and Cherish and their friendship. Fun stuff ahead, enjoy my readers!**

 **Disclaimer: Still only own the oc's and original plot points. *Sad face***

* * *

The first week of M's arrival was taxing on everyone. It didn't take long for the rest of Wammy's House to learn that he was unpleasant to be around. Zachariah was convinced M was born angry. Some of the children were afraid to be around him, while others seemed desperate to win over his approval. One of those people was Cherish.

She wanted to befriend the boy, but her efforts had not taken her far. All she had managed so far were a handful of greetings when she'd come by the orphanage. After the first few times, he seemed to grow aware of when her presence was in the house and was now actively avoiding her.

Today was no different. After finishing her schoolwork she had skipped straight over to Wammy's with the same goal in mind. But she couldn't find M anywhere, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Every room and corner had been checked, but the blond boy did not want to be found.

"You haven't given up the chase yet?" L inquired, his head buried in his laptop.

"Of course I haven't," said Cherish. "I thought you of all people would understand that. You'd never give up, would you?"

"This isn't a game I ever agreed to play, but I suppose figuratively speaking, I would persevere," L said, pausing to blink at her. "He doesn't seem to want your friendship though, so all of your endeavors feel pointless."

She was starting to have the same thought, but she wasn't about to let L know that. She couldn't be accepted by everyone, after all, she still didn't have any friends outside of Wammy's House. Maybe that was why she couldn't give up on M. The orphanage was the first place she had formed friendships, and to be denied that now felt wrong. M hadn't made any friends yet either, and she didn't want him to be alone. He was just a boy, no matter how smart he was proving to be.

In the first week of his living there, everyone had discovered what type of smarts M possessed. He was different from L, more cunning and deceptive, and fueled with emotion. It was apparent he didn't know how to wield his emotions, and while he was about as sociable as the next genius, he didn't have the same awkwardness around others that L did.

"I'm going to go ask around again." Cherish decided, pacing over to the door.

L watched her for a moment in acknowledgment before returning to his stack of sugar cubes. He popped one into his mouth, holding it in his cheek so he could speak. "Bad company corrupts good character."

Cherish wrinkled her nose back at him, and she saw the twitch of his lips at her expense. He may as well have been laughing at her. She must have been around Wammy's House for too long, because somewhere along the way she had gained a competitiveness that she never used to have. "Hey, he's going to be my friend, even if it kills me."

"He just might," L said in his monosyllabic way.

"Do you always have to get the last word in?"

L stared at her with a fixed face. "Yes."

Cherish huffed, but let a foolish smile take over her face once she was in the hallway. L's childlessness endeared him to her, and she hoped that he would never change.

Her eyes were focused as she made her way through the house. Lessons had ended by now, and the children were spread out over every floor and the grounds. She went to the kitchen first. Most of Wammy's children all seemed to be scrawny despite having huge appetites, and each diet was as strange as the next. L had his sweets; Zachariah smelt like a theater because of all the popcorn he ate; BB could make a castle out of the empty glass jars of strawberry jam he consumed; Linda had her pudding cups, which she was quite protective of.

Cherish hadn't adopted this habit, probably because she was still eating three square meals a day at home with her parents. They certainly weren't going to let her suddenly stop eating one of the four food groups.

When she got to the kitchen, she was disappointed to find it empty, but as she turned to leave she spotted Able walking down the hallway.

"Hey," She called, quickening her stride to catch up to him. He jolted when she wrapped her hand around his arm, stopping him in his place. Maybe he hadn't heard her? "Sorry Able, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, I was just thinking," He said, forcing a smile. It was thin and empty. "What's up?"

"Have you seen M around? I was hoping to try and talk with him."

"Still trying to make a new friend, huh?" He asked.

Cherish didn't answer right away. She remembered what Zach had said, about Able and BB being failures. Beyond did not show his face often, so she couldn't say for certain what he was up to, but as she looked over Able, she saw his defeat. Since she had come to the orphanage he had always been a positive force in the house. Now it appeared as if all of the hope had been beaten out of him, and he was in need of inspiration. The best Cherish could do was a hug.

"I always have you if he doesn't want to be my friend, right?" Cherish asked. Able had gone still in her arms.

"Of course. I'm your Pazu, remember?" He squeezed back, and some warmth crept back into his voice. Not enough to be convincing, but at least she felt she had done something for him. Able let her go after a moment, having an answer to her question. "I saw M go outside just a little while ago, so he should still be out on the grounds somewhere."

"Thank you," Cherish said. "Have any advice for me, on how to go about making friends with him?"

"I'll stick with a cliché and say, just be yourself. That should always be enough, or else it just isn't worth it."

The faraway look was in his eyes again, and Cherish could see she was losing him. "Let's do something together again. Tomorrow works for me, so don't make any plans, okay?"

"What did you want to do?" Able asked.

"I don't know, anything really, just make sure you're free. Promise?"

He appeared to contemplate over the idea or was trying to come up with an excuse to say no. She hoped that wasn't the case.

"I promise."

He left after that, leaving Cherish with nothing but his promise, an unmeasurable currency that may prove to rob her blind. She chose to believe in her friend though and forgetting her doubts she followed Able's advice about searching outside for M.

The sun was beating down, and she shielded her eyes with her arm. Many of the children were running about outside, but M wasn't among any of the little clusters. She headed towards the back of the house, hoping he hadn't gone further than that. The land around Wammy's was a large wooded area with many trails, and she didn't feel adventurous enough to trek through there wearing nothing but a dress and her Mary-janes.

When Cherish got to the backyard, she was disappointed to find it abandoned. That was how it seemed at first, but when she tilted her head back with a sigh, she ended up spying a blond head of hair up in the oak tree. He hadn't yet seen her, and she took slow steps forward so as to not spook him.

"M?" She called softly.

"Oh no," He grumbled, and he spun his head until he found her below. "What do you want this time?"

"I just wanted to talk, and get to know you better." Against her better judgment, she grabbed at the wide trunk of the tree and hoisted herself up until her feet found solid footing along the bark.

M's eyes grew with surprise. "Are you sure you can climb up here?"

"Yes," She puffed out. "I used to climb over the gate of the property when I first started coming here."

"Yeah, but tree climbing is a lot harder," He argued, and he started to move from his place on his branch. "Let me come down."

"No, I can do this."

He still must not have believed her, because he climbed down two more branches before stopping just above where her head could reach. "Need some help?" He asked, looking down at her with that know-it-all gaze that everyone in Wammy's house employed so well.

"I'm alright," Cherish said. She managed the rest of the way up in a graceless manner, swinging her leg over the branch across from M until she was straddling it in her dress.

"I didn't think girls were supposed to sit that way," said M, looking at her funny.

"We aren't, so don't tell anyone." She made a shushing motion with her finger to her lips. "Anyway, I don't think we're in any danger of being caught. Nobody really climbs trees here."

"That's what I thought too, but you followed me."

Cherish flushed and looked down, which was a mistake because it made her realize how far up in the tree they still were. She quickly snapped her head back up. "Sorry. I guess I'm trying too hard to be your friend, huh?"

"Yeah, and I don't get it. Why do you want to be friends with a kid; aren't you too old?" said M, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, not seeming bothered by the height.

"I don't really think that matters," said Cherish. "Since coming here, I've probably broken more than one rule when it comes to making appropriate friends, but I wasn't so good at it outside of Wammy's."

"There's no one here for me to be friends with either. Everyone is older than me," M muttered sullenly.

"For now, but Wammy is going to be bringing more children here, you're just the first one he found."

"Really?" M sat up straighter, his hands clutching at the branch before him as he scooted closer.

"Yeah, I don't really know how long that will take him, but just be patient. You'll have new friends before you know it."

"Man, waiting and being patient aren't things I'm good at," said M, crossing his arms.

Cherish smiled. "That doesn't surprise me."

M glared back at her with ferocity. Apparently, he wasn't one for jokes at his own expense.

"You really want to be my friend?" He asked.

"Of course, but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

M sat back, a considerate expression falling on his face. "But what would we do? I like sports, and not to be funny, but you don't look very athletic."

"I climbed up here didn't I?"

And after she said that, a snap erupted from the tree. Cherish let out a squeak as the branch she was perched on gave way. It happened so fast and was over in an instant. She hit the ground hard on her left side, and a burning pain started from her wrist, traveling up her arm. A pair of feet landed close beside her head, and she heard M's voice in her ear over and over as he knelt down beside her.

"I'm sorry, Cherish, I'm sorry. It's my fault you fell," He said, his voice wobbly. "Wait here, let me go find some help."

While M took off for the house, Cherish rolled onto her back, cradling her injured arm to her chest as she looked up at the bright sky. Much of her was still shaded by the thick canopy of the oak tree, but she immediately noticed the shadow of an approaching figure. He had managed to slip on his trainers before coming outside, which made her wonder how long he had been watching.

"I said he might attempt to murder you, but I never thought he'd go as far as to push you out of a tree," said L.

"He didn't push me, I fell out," Cherish grounded with tears stinging her eyes from the pain.

"I see. Yes, that makes sense." He crouched down, his head hanging above hers while their eyes locked. "May I assist you up? It appears only your wrist is broken."

She had to agree with that. Her left arm had grown fat and purple at the wrist. "Thanks...Loris."

L carefully helped her into a seated position, making sure she was straight, and that her head wasn't bruised and broken from the fall. "You still don't approve of my new name."

"It'll take getting used to."

"Were you successful in acquiring a new friend?" L inquired as he chewed on his thumb, studying her where she sat on the grass.

"I think my fall might have goaded him into it."

"A win is a win. Though it might interest you to learn that that particular branch used to hold the tire swing, so its integrity was compromised."

Cherish opened her mouth, ready to retort when Wammy came out from the patio of the house, with M tight to his side. The kid's face was all red like he had been running or shouting. Maybe both.

"She has a broken wrist, Watari," L informed him before he even got to speak.

"Oh dear. It looks like a trip to the hospital is in order," Wammy said as he carefully guided Cherish up to her feet. "I will have Roger contact your parents to meet us there."

At the mention of her parents, L took a step back. "I'll leave you in more capable hands."

"You're not coming with me?" Cherish felt her gut sink. She wanted her best friend there with her when her parents arrived, not just Wammy. Her mum and dad had known for a while about her activities and friendships at the orphanage, but they had yet to actually meet any of her friends. Cherish had the suspicion that they didn't believe her.

"Well I'm going with you," M declared, to which she smiled.

"Loris, you should come as well. This may be your last opportunity to spend with Cherish before we leave again to work with L." Wammy said, looking down his nose through his spectacles with a pointed look.

"You get to work with L?" M asked with envy. He had only been there a week, and already the other kids had been singing L's praises. Cherish knew she was probably the most guilty of that, but it was difficult not to when she had to keep secret about L's identity.

"Yes," L said brusquely before turning to Wammy. "I'd rather not go to the hospital, it's not an environment I like putting myself in."

"Then I'll have to ask that you assist Roger with the other children while I'm away."

Cherish had to hand it to Wammy, that was a pretty underhanded move. She would have commented as such, but given the circumstance of her injury, she was more focused on managing the pain in her arm, and what she'd say to her parents when they saw her.

"I'll stay in the waiting room with M," L conceded.

"That's fine," Wammy said. He ushered them around the house to the garage where a sleek black car was kept.

Cherish was sure she'd never seen such a fancy piece of machinery. It was much more luxurious than her family's station wagon with the wood paneling. Wammy held the back door opened for her, and she climbed inside the dark interior. M and L seemed to struggle over who would sit in the middle, with L winning when he held M back by a hand on his head.

"Really mature," Cherish muttered. She tried to grin, but it ended up looking more like a grimace because of the agony in her wrist.

"I never said I wasn't childish," L retorted. He climbed up onto the leather upholstery beside her, assuming his normal position. It seemed even automobile safety wouldn't keep him from his habits.

Once M was tucked inside, Wammy started the engine. He also ordered everyone to put on their seatbelts, which M had already done. L reluctantly followed suit, but Cherish couldn't seem to do it with only the use of one arm. L sighed, finally taking pity on her as he fastened the buckle the rest of the way.

"Thanks," She said to L's blinking face.

M leaned forward in his seat, narrowing his eyes at them. "Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Cherish flushed. "Of course not!"

"No," L said at the same time. "Now can we please go to the hospital before Cherish's parents decide we are negligent?"

Wammy chuckled, and started the car down the driveway. The car fell into a stuffy silence after that, with M watching them occasionally. L kept his eyes forward, and Cherish wondered if he was as embarrassed by M's question as she had been. He didn't let anything show, but that wasn't anything to report. She sunk back into the soft seat, choosing to forget the matter, even though her face felt as hot as her broken wrist.

* * *

 **Alright so next chapter we are back in L's POV. He gets to meet Cherish's parents for the first time, so any ideas on how you think that will go? Also, I want him and Mello to talk next chapter, and for Mello to officially get his title. Exciting stuff on the way. Cheers guys!**


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